I have nightmares, but everyone has nightmares." Gervaise remained with him until the evening.

When the house surgeon came, at the six o'clock inspection, he made him spread his hands; they hardly trembled at all, scarcely a quiver at the tips of the fingers.
However, as night approached, Coupeau was little by little seized with uneasiness.

He twice sat up in bed looking on the ground and in the dark corners of the room.

Suddenly he thrust out an arm and appeared to crush some vermin against the wall.
"What is it ?" asked Gervaise, frightened.
"The rats! The rats!" murmured he.
Then, after a pause, gliding into sleep, he tossed about, uttering disconnected phrases.
"_Mon Dieu!_ they're tearing my skin!--Oh! the filthy beasts!--Keep steady! Hold your skirts right round you! beware of the dirty bloke behind you!--_Mon Dieu!_ she's down and the scoundrels laugh!--Scoundrels! Blackguards! Brigands!" He dealt blows into space, caught hold of his blanket and rolled it into a bundle against his chest, as though to protect the latter from the violence of the bearded men whom he beheld.

Then, an attendant having hastened to the spot, Gervaise withdrew, quite frozen by the scene.
But when she returned a few days later, she found Coupeau completely cured.